


Fifty Candles and a Cigar

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Face and the others make a big deal out of Hannibal's 50th birthday, calling him old. Repeatedly. Hannibal decides to prove to Face just how young he is. Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Candles and a Cigar

“Bossman! Where aaare you?”

Hannibal groaned. He buried his head a little further under his pillow, refusing to open his eyes. Just for today; couldn't he be allowed to go into hibernation just for today?

“There he is! Ready with the flame thrower, Bosco?”

“Shut up, fool, and start singing!”

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to yoouuu...”

Hannibal sighed in resignation and threw the pillow aside, sitting up. There in the doorway stood Murdock, holding a gigantic cake aflame with candles and sparklers, flanked by a grinning Face and a benignly scowling BA. They wore little paper hats, and Face held a tray stacked high with...

“Pancakes?” Hannibal growled, his stomach giving an enthusiastic rumble.

“And eggs, bacon, coffee and toast,” Murdock listed happily. “Happy birthday, boss!”

Hannibal smiled despite himself. “Thanks, Murdock. Let me have one of those pancakes.”

It wasn't every day he got to have breakfast in bed like a spoiled rich kid, and he would damn well enjoy it. Face, bouncing like an excited preschooler on his first day, jumped right into bed with him and sat down practically in Hannibal's lap. He grabbed a pancake, tore off a piece and held it out to the older man.

“Don't strain yourself, now,” Face said with a grin. “Here, let me help you with that, old man.”

Hannibal, his mouth full of pancake, glared at his lieutenant. _Old man?_

“Yeah, don't want to exert yourself, boss,” BA said, sniggering. “Now that you're halfway to a hundred.”

Hannibal swallowed his pancake. “I ain't that old!”

Face scoffed. “You're _fifty_ , boss. You really are that old.”

“I'm in my prime,” Hannibal protested. “I'm just as fit as I always were!”

Face and BA laughed. Murdock, eyes solemn, held out the cake. The blaze of candles -fifty fucking candles – was actually a bit intense when it got up close.

“Blow 'em out, boss. But be careful you don't work too hard,” Murdock warned.

Hannibal scowled, then took a deep breath and extinguished every last candle. So there.

“Time to give up smoking and take up jogging, colonel,” Face crowed. “And maybe I should start topping, so you don't throw your back when we fuck.”

BA stuck his fingers in his ears, scowling. “I'm not hearing this!”

Murdock nodded seriously. “Yeah, I hear you can have a heart-attack if you get too vigorous durin', uh, love-making.”

Hannibal growled and grabbed the front of Face's shirt, yanking the younger man close enough to bite his throat. “I can still outlast you by a few days, _kid_.”

Face squirmed happily in his lap, but pulled away with a teasing grin. “Now, now, Hannibal. I'll give you a nice, gentle blowjob tonight, if you behave yourself. Eat your breakfast, and I'll go rig the croquet set.”

BA, Murdock and Face left the room sniggering, a fuming Hannibal attacking his bacon viciously.

***

Murdock made stew for dinner that day, insisting it would be easier on Hannibal's teeth. BA refused him a beer after dinner, saying something about his liver getting old, too. Hannibal was getting steadily more pissed as the day progressed, being the butt of their jokes about old age and infirmity, having his boys talk to him like an old cripple. By nightfall, he was pretty damn riled up. And then Face decided to get cocky.

“Isn't it about bedtime for you, old man?” Face said, patting Hannibal's shoulder. “Come on, I'll fill the hot water bottle for you.”

It was eight thirty.

Hannibal got up off the couch and grabbed Face by the shirt front. “That's it. I'm going to show you just how old I am,” he snarled, then turned and set off for their room, dragging Face after him, the younger man protesting vigorously.

Cigar clamped between his teeth, Hannibal shoved Face into their bedroom, then followed him in and closed the door behind them. He locked it. He threw the key off somewhere in the vicinity of the dresser. Then he blew a puff of smoke into Face's face and growled, “Strip.”

Face didn't immediately reply, so Hannibal grabbed him, shoved him down on their shared bed, and followed him down. Face was still trying to voice some sort of protest, but the colonel simply ignored him and tore his t-shirt off, dragging it roughly over the conman's head. Then before Face could really react, Hannibal's hand was in his trousers, in his shorts, palming his dick and making him gasp.

“Hannibal!” Face protested. “Aren't you...”

“Shut up, kid,” was the only response, and then Hannibal's fingers found that spot just behind Face's balls that made him rock hard in seconds. He rubbed it, fingers pressing hard against the skin there, until Face was mewling and bucking on the bed.

“Please, boss!” Face whined. “Don't play with me, get fucking _started_!”

“I thought you youngsters were a little more resistant than that,” Hannibal chuckled, but he grabbed Face's dick and stroked hard, jacking the conman off until he came, a silent yell of Hannibal's name on his lips. Then he gave him a quick kiss on the lips and wiped his sticky hand on the sheet. He put out the last glowing stub of his cigar on the bedside table, then got up.

“Strip. I won't tell you again, kid.”

Face, still panting after his hurried orgasm, got off the bed and pulled off the rest of his clothes. Then he grinned at the older man and held his arms out, turning around in place. “Well?”

“Yeah, yeah, you're hot, kid. A fucking treat to look at. No, don't lie down yet,” Hannibal instructed, stripping all his own clothes off, as well. “I'm not done with you yet.”

“I sure as hell hope not,” Face said with a lecherous grin. “You can't be _that_ old.”

Hannibal's eyes darkened. He grabbed the lube from the bedside drawer, and tossed it to Face. “Get yourself ready. You've got five minutes.”

Face gave a snort, squeezing a thick dollop of slick into his hand. Five minutes? Half the time they had sex, he got so desperate for Hannibal he barely slicked the other man up before sitting down on him and _begging_ for it. He wouldn't need more than one.

Hannibal just watched him, lighting up yet another cigar and puffing slowly on it as he let his eyes run over the younger man. Face could see his dick, hard and red, _throb_ when the conman pushed a finger deep into himself and moaned.

“Okay, I'm good,” Face said, leaning over the bed, his ass pushed high on display. “Come fuck your birthday present, gramps.”

Hannibal slapped him hard on the ass, and Face could almost _see_ the glow on the cigar flare as he moaned. Then the older man began pushing into him and Face lost all cognizant ability.

“Do you know, Face, that you're just as tight, just as fucking _hot_ , as the first time I bent you over the tables in the mess tent and fucked you?” Hannibal said, almost conversationally, the cigar drizzling a little ash down on Face's back as he spoke. “Fuck, you're so _tight_.”

Face purred in agreement, his hands on the mattress barely enough to support him as Hannibal began pushing deep. The conman knew, when Hannibal got aggressive, that it was going to be one of those nights when he'd be fucked hard, Hannibal would make a few hickies to lay claim to his boy, and he would be sore as all hell the next morning.

Face loved those nights.

“I gave you five minutes,” Hannibal growled, never ceasing his thrusts, “to get yourself ready. Should have used them, Face.”

“I did,” Face moaned, his body responding lazily to Hannibal's rough treatment. “Always ready for you, boss.”

“I meant _ready_ ,” Hannibal chuckled. “Now I'll just have to get you hard again the fun way.”

Face's eyes widened. “Boss, you can't... fuck... again?!”

Hannibal stopped his movements, then leaned down until he could nip along Face's broad back, hard and unmoving inside him. “I want you hard again so I can make you come again, kid,” he murmured, cigar in one hand and Face's spent cock in the other. The younger man squirmed, over-sensitized, as Hannibal stroked slowly. “And again, and again, until you're fucked raw and you're _begging_ me to stop.”

Face laughed breathlessly. “At your age? I don't think so, boss.”

Another hard slap to his ass made Face groan with pleasure. Yeah, he had a spanking thing. _So sue me._

“We'll see, kid.”

Face could smell the cigar smoke as Hannibal exhaled, and what the fuck, was his CO still smoking?

“If you burn me with that thing, I won't put out for a month,” Face warned.

The cigar hissed as Hannibal put it out next to the other one, right on the tabletop. Then the colonel pulled out, slowly, letting Face feel every inch of his withdrawal. Face's knees were almost buckling; he didn't know how long he'd be able to stand. Fuck, but Hannibal's cock did things to him he didn't even have the brain to put in words.

Not while it was inside him, anyway.

“Come sit in my lap, kid,” Hannibal said, grinning.

The colonel was getting comfortable on the bed, leaning against the headboard, when Face could get himself vertical again. His long legs were spread, his cock still hard and glistening with slick, and Face felt a flutter of desire go through him. Again? He grinned, slowly and lazily. He could go twice, if Hannibal wanted him to.

Face crawled into Hannibal's lap, settled back to chest with the older man, and let his hands snake up behind him to fold around Hannibal's neck. Hannibal's big, calloused hands slid slowly around his torso and Face felt like melting into the hard planes of the body behind him.

“Mm, boss, you better do something about this,” Face purred, bucking his hips a little to make his point. “Or I won't be _up_ to your standards tonight.”

“Funny,” Hannibal chuckled, and his voice went through Face in a delicious rumble. “Don't worry, kid; I've got you. And we have all night.”

A large hand closed around his cock, pulling gently, toying with him. Face gasped and his arms tremble, hooked around Hannibal's sturdy neck. Hannibal's erection was a hard heat against the small of his back. Hannibal's breath ghosted over Face's ear, the colonel nuzzling gently into the younger man's hair.

“You feel so right like this,” Hannibal muttered, and kissed Face's thudding pulse point. “Pliant. You're so...”

“I'm like stunningly attractive clay in your hands?” Face smirked, arching his (rather impressive, if he did say so himself) body upwards when Hannibal's fingers found his balls again. “Oh, yeah, right there!”

“Like a big kitten,” Hannibal corrected, grinning into the skin of Face's shoulder. And there was that spot again, just behind his balls, and fuck, that felt fantastic!

“I'm not a kitten,” Face moaned, but even as he uttered it he knew he sounded like a purring feline. “And bestiality's illegal in several states, boss.”

“Mm. You ready yet, kid?”

Face groaned. He was getting there, but after his previous orgasm, he wasn't fully hard yet. “Not yet. Think you're gonna have to fuck me hard again, Hannibal.”

A hard bite to his shoulder was Hannibal's only reply, then the older man pushed and guided Face to get on his knees on the bed. Face pushed back, trying to feel Hannibal's skin against his. Then Hannibal leaned down, bit his ass cheek hard, and licked up along his spine.

“Brace yourself, sweetheart,” came a mocking growl, and Face felt the cold drip of lube reapplied, and finally Hannibal's hard cock, pressing back inside him.

“Bring it, old man,” Face hissed, hands fisting in the bedspread.

Hannibal was punishing him for his cracks about age, Face just knew it. The older man's hands clawed at his hips, holding him in place as he drove into the conman's body. And Hannibal was still so hard, so _fucking_ hard, occasionally jolting Face's prostate until the younger man found himself hard again.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Face groaned. “Hannibal!”

Bent over, face buried in the bedspread, the younger man could only plead, beg, wait for Hannibal to finish him off. He panted, hands clenching in time with Hannibal's thrusts.

“God, I love this,” Hannibal growled, thrusting forwards into the tight heat. “Fucking you... feeling your... ungh... body like this. Come on, kid, let me hear you. Let me hear how you like this.”

Hannibal loved to hear him moan. And scream, beg, gasp, whimper...

“Boss, please,” Face complied. It was the man's birthday, after all. “Want to feel you when you come in me!”

Hannibal grunted, grabbing Face's hips harder yet. “Together, Temp.”

And when Hannibal hit his prostate again, Face grabbed his dick and stroked, trying to speed himself up. He wanted... just...

“Now, kid!”

Face tugged hard on his cock and felt the climax shoot up his spine, toes curling, balls tightening almost painfully. His body clenched and Hannibal felt deliciously solid in him, making him whine high in his throat. The colonel cried out, a rugged shout of Face's name, and stiffened. The knowledge that Hannibal was coming inside him, sent a little aftershock of pleasure chasing through him, and Face moaned again.

“Fuck me sideways, boss,” he muttered into the bedding, legs shaking with the strain of remaining in his bent-over position. “Happy fucking birthday.”

Hannibal gave a self-satisfied chuckle, pulling out of Face before sitting back against the pillows again. “Good to know you're enjoying it. Any particular requests for round two?”

Face grinned, flopping onto his back and running a hand through his sweaty, messed-up hair. “I was thinking, tomorrow you might want that blowjob.”

“I'm sure I will. But first I'm going to fuck you through that wall, and then you'd better be ready for the reverse cowboy position, because I've been wanting to see you do that again for weeks,” Hannibal said in his best plan-briefing-voice.

Face lifted his head, looking at Hannibal in disbelief. “You what?”

“Round two, half an hour,” Hannibal said, his gaze turning into those steely, blue colonel death-rays. “If you need a nap first, _kid_ , then I suggest you get to it.”

Face let his head fall back with a groan. Fuck it, now he _knew_ Hannibal was punishing him.

***

“That's two, now,” Murdock said from where he was lying upside-down on the couch. The pilot's sockless feet were dangling in the air over the backrest, his head hanging down towards the floor. “Wanna bet on how many -”

“Shut up, fool!” BA snarled, determinedly stuffing a pair of earplugs into place. “I ain't bettin' on _nothing_ about the boss' sex life!”

“I think four,” Murdock said, then turned to consult Socky. “Whaddaya say, lil' sock buddy? Five, tops.”

BA raised the book he was reading so he wouldn't even have to look at Murdock's grin as the crazy fool listened to the bed thump against the wall, the rhythm unsettlingly strong. BA did his very best to not imagine anything that was going on in there, but it was growing steadily more difficult with each sound. So he stuffed his earplugs a little further into his ears and read a tacky thriller paperback with fierce determination.

***

“Boss, please,” Face gasped, hands clutched tight on Hannibal's shoulders. “Hannibal! Fuck, Hannibal, I can't...”

“What's the matter, kid?” Hannibal panted, grinning. He was panting because he was fucking Face enthusiastically against the wall, and even for Hannibal, that would make a man break a sweat. “You can't take it?”

“No!” Face wailed, eyes rolling back as Hannibal nailed his prostate again. “Fuck! No more, please!”

Hannibal chuckled, shifting his grip on Face's thigh a little to hitch the younger man's leg up a little higher. “Fine. One more, Face, and I'll let you go.”

“Fuck,” Face whimpered, eyes scrunched shut. His whole body was aching, screaming for release, but he was just _so tired_! Hannibal had been fucking him for what must have been hours, and he'd already come three times and been denied orgasm for forty-five minutes now.

He never should have said anything about Hannibal's age. Damn it, next year he was going to forget the day even existed.

“You said something about old age earlier?” Hannibal asked conversationally, still fucking up into his lieutenant.

“No,” Face gasped, sweat making his grip on Hannibal difficult to maintain. “Nothing, boss!”

“That's what I thought. Now come for me, Temp. I want to feel that thing you do when you come on my cock,” Hannibal growled.

“Oooohkay,” Face moaned, legs clenching around the older man's waist. “Just... let me...”

“Now, Temp!” Hannibal demanded, and his laboured breathing told Face his colonel was close. So close. Each thrust made Face's muscles scream in protest, and still it was so incredibly good, his nerves singing in pleasure...

“Please!” he groaned, pushing down against the hardness inside him. “Can't...”

“I love you, Templeton,” Hannibal hissed in his ear, one hand miraculously releasing Face' leg to grab onto his dick instead. “Come on, kid, show me!”

Face was already coming, his over-sensitized erection twitching in orgasm the second Hannibal touched it. Shouting Hannibal's name, he thumped his head back so hard it hurt, coming in weak jolts between their bodies. His body clenched again, making Hannibal feel too big inside him, his CO impossibly hard.

“John!”

And Hannibal followed him over the edge, grunting harshly into Face's ear, his ragged breath catching in his throat as he came inside the younger man for the second time that night. Pulsing, shivering, the two men collapsed against the wall, only Hannibal's bulk holding them up as they leaned into each other.

“Come down from there, then,” Hannibal grinned, sweat beading his brow.

Face sighed in relief and let himself slide down, secretly grateful to Hannibal for the support when the older man pressed him back against the wall again. He didn't trust his knees not to buckle. “We done?”

“Yeah, kid, we're done,” Hannibal chuckled. He picked Face up, remarkably still able to lift the younger man, and moved them both wearily to the bed. “Tired?”

“Fuck you, Colonel Understatement,” Face muttered, his whole body melting into the bed. “Even my prostate is sore.”

Hannibal sounded as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Well, that's what you get for trying to pick a fight with the biggest bully in the playground. You still think I'm old, kid?”

“I said I was sorry!” was the muffled response. Face was almost asleep already.

“Yeah, but that didn't count, since you had my dick up your ass at the time.”

“When _don't_ I have your dick up my ass?” Face yawned. “We're agreed then, you're the baddest motherfucker around and I'm your bitch.”

“Don't forget the part where you compared me to various race animals,” Hannibal said with a grin in his voice. Face really couldn't open his eyes, but the scent of cigar smoke told him Hannibal was lighting up another one.

“Mm.”

Hannibal waited until Face had fallen asleep, then pulled the cover up over the younger man – sticky and exhausted, he didn't even stir when Hannibal got in next to him after having turned out the lights and slung an arm over Face's waist.

“Thanks for the present, kid,” Hannibal murmured, then pressed a kiss to Face's temple. “I can't wait for _your_ birthday.”


End file.
